


American Dream

by Saoirse_Laochra



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Daddy Daryl, F/M, Gen, Judy Dixon, Language, Mamma Carol, Non-Graphic Smut, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Protective Daryl, Violence, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saoirse_Laochra/pseuds/Saoirse_Laochra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into the lives of Daryl and Carol four years after the events of season 3.</p><p>"He'd always avoided relationships, before the Walker outbreak. Hell, a one-night stand was about eleven hours longer than anything he wanted. He knew who he was, and what he was, and he knew that that didn't exactly lend itself to being a good husband or father.</p><p>But, he'd always believed in playing the hand that had been dealt to him. And whether it was God, or Fate, or Karma, or whatever bullshit that was controlling things... He'd been dealt a full house. A winning hand.</p><p>Time to step up, be a man, and play the hand"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was one of my more popular pieces on FF.net... Did some minor touch ups and edits, nothing serious.
> 
> I wrote this during the mid-season break of season 3. So obviously certain stuff didn't play out the way I thought it would lol. But it's still pretty good, and it's plausible, so... yeah...

Four years. It had been four years to the day that their group had fallen apart. Four years since they'd lost Lori and T-Dog, since their safe haven had been over run. A little less than three and a half since the insane Governor had waged open war on them, nearly over-running their little group.

Carol sighed as she glanced through the barred window. Between the people who'd come from Woodbury after the Governor started executing his own people, Tyrese and his small group, and the occasional straggler, their 'little' group had grown to include forty-nine people, including seven children.

Among them, the little girl toddling along after the tall, dark-haired man, as the two crossed the large yard.

A smile crossed her lips, as she heard the door to their cell block creak open. One of the nice changes with the larger group had been the entire clearing of the prison, leaving each block with two or three families, depending on size.

"Mama!"

"Hey there, sweetheart!" Carol gushed, moving away from the window, to scoop up the little girl. "You having fun?"

"Uh huh! Daddy took me down to the water!"

Carol turned her glare towards the man leaning against the open door. "Did he now?"

"Uh huh. Said he's gonna teach me how to catch fishies!"

Carol sighed again, setting the little girl down. "Alright, baby. Go get cleaned up; mama will start lunch, alright?"

"Alright!"

She waited until the small, bouncing toddler had vanished around a corner, before moving towards her partner.

"Do I have to say anything?" She asked quietly.

"Can't hold her hand her whole life, woman. 'Ventually, girl's gonna need ta know how ta take care a herself," Daryl Dixon said, clearly exasperated.

"She's four, Daryl!"

"Jesus, woman, we gotta go through this every time I take her outside? C'mon, now… Ya got two hungry mouths ta feed, an' I got two rabbits," He said with his trademark grin.

"Really? Two? Where're mouths three and four?"

He hesitated a moment, as he shifted nervously from foot to foot. "They're 'round."

" 'Round' where, Daryl?"

Daryl sighed. "Shauna's watching Glen an' Maggie's brats; Mikey's with Carl."

Carol stiffened. "With Carl? Or with Rick?"

"Jesus, Carol, I don't need this shit right now, a'ight? I'm tired, I'm hungry, an' I really don't want the third degree."

"You don't want the third degree? Oh, that's beautiful, Daryl. Why don't you tell Judy that her big brother is hanging out with her real brother, and her real father? You know, the one who didn't want her?" Carol snapped, shoving past him.

* * *

It'd been three years. Three wonderful years, that were still heart-breaking at the same time. That particular conversation was one that Carol would never be able to forget.

She'd come in from laundry, to find Daryl holding Judith, Rick standing in the door, the two men arguing.

"What's going on?" Carol asked quietly.

Daryl turned towards her, blue eyes flashing. "Carol, take Judy."

"What –"

"Take Judy!" He snapped. "I've gotta beat the good Deputy's ass!"

"Daryl, please, don't make this harder on me, you don't understand what I'm going throu –"

"What you're going through?!" Daryl barked, moving closer to Rick, baby Judith still in his arms despite his words. "You kiddin' me?! You abandonin' your kid, an' ya wanna talk 'bout what you're goin' through?"

Carol's eyes nearly bunged out of her head. "What? Daryl, what's going on?" She demanded, setting the laundry down, and getting in between the two men.

"Go on then, big guy! Tell her whatchya told me!"

When Rick stared at the floor silently, Carol moved closer. "Rick?"

"I… I can't do it anymore, Carol. I tried, but… Every time I look at her… I… I see Shane… And Lori… And the walker that… that ate her… I just can't do it anymore," The once-cop said with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Rick!" Daryl yelled, as the deputy started walking away. "Ya do this? She's mine. Ya try an' change ya mind? I'll kill ya, understand?"

* * *

By that time, Carol and Daryl had already been living together, since his miraculous escape from Woodbury. While sex had never been anything more than the occasional fumbling in the dark, more like two awkward teenagers for the first time, they'd been a couple since that first night of his return.

A year after they'd taken Judy in, while Daryl, Tyrese and Glen had been on a run into a town twenty or so miles away, they'd come home with ten year old Shauna, a little African-American girl who'd watched her father and grandmother get eaten by walkers. Apparently her grandmother had looked like Carol, and the little girl had latched on to her.

"Um… Daryl? Can I talk to you?"

Her hunter glared as he looked up from the squirrel he was gutting. "Yeah?"

"It's… it's about Shauna. She… She fell asleep on our bed with Judy."

"And…?"

"I… I don't think she wants to leave," Carol said quietly, feeling nervous fluttering in her chest. In all honesty, she'd grown attached to the little girl in the few hours she'd spent with her.

Daryl chuckled, finally setting the knife down. "So what? Ya tellin' me I got three mouths ta feed now?"

"I wouldn't decide something like without talking to you first, Daryl."

Daryl sighed, picking up the knife again. "What the hell? Ya want a damn litter? Jus' don't go stealin' any, Angelina," He grumbled.

* * *

Micah was the most recent addition to their quasi-family. The thirteen year old had just shown up outside the fence one day, about eight months after Shauna. Daryl had rescued him from the Walkers around the fence, and from then on, the teenager had become Daryl's shadow.

Carol sighed, halfway down the hall, before turning around, and making her way back to the community room of Cell Block A. Daryl was sitting at one of the tables, head in his hands.

"Daryl?" Carol said softly, sitting down next to him. "I –"

"Carol, I'm sorry," Daryl interrupted. "I don't like Mikey hangin' out over there either, but Carl's the only boy his age… But I'll talk to him if ya want… Tell him I don't want him hangin' over there."

"No, it's…" Carol took a deep breath, as she grasped his hands in hers. "I just… I overreacted, and I'm sorry, Daryl. Let's just… let's pretend none of this happened, alright? We're good at that," She said with a small smile.

He chuckled as he kissed the top of her hands. "Yeah. We are."

"Daddy, c'mon! You promised you'd teach me how to gut the bunnies!"

Both of the adults laughed at the pleading look on Judith's face.

"Yeah, that's right, Ass Kicker. I did, didn't I?"

* * *

"Alright, everybody, time for bed!" Carol called out from inside the cell block itself. "Let's get a move on!"

"Aw, c'mon, ma!"

"Do we have to?"

"Hey! You heard your mom. Move it," She heard Daryl say sternly. "Everybody up."

"Hey, Daryl! We got problems!"

Carol bolted out of the cell at Tyrese's voice. "What's going on?" She asked, gathering Judith up in her arms, as Shauna wrapped herself around her mother's waist.

"Big group outside. Gotta be at least thirty of 'em. Beth's rounding up the kids, bringin' 'em over here," Tyrese said breathlessly, before disappearing down the hall.

"Shit. Mikey, c'mon," Daryl snapped, grabbing his crossbow, and tossing his adopted son his compound bow. "Carol –"

"Lock everybody in the cell block, I know," She said quickly. "We'll be okay. Go."

"Mama?" Judith cried. "Where's daddy goin'?"

Carol took a deep breath, before handing the now-squirming toddler to Shauna. "Shauna, take Judy to your room. Get your shoes on, get her settled down. I'll be in when Beth gets here with the others."

"Should I get the guns, mama?" The thirteen year old asked, propping Judy up on her hip.

"No. Wait till I get in there."


	2. Chapter 2

"Carol?"

Carol sighed in relief as Beth appeared in the door, Glen and Maggie's twins on her hips, along with four of the other children, all under thirteen, all clinging to her legs.

"Alright, let's get them inside. C'mon, kids. Everybody divide up, just like we practiced. Two of you older kids in with Beth, two of you in with me and my girls. C'mon, everybody move. Into the cells. There's extra blankets and pillows already in the cells, if you have to go to the bathroom, do it now, because you're not leaving the cells again till we get the all clear."

* * *

"You ready, kid?" Daryl asked, sparing Mikey a sideways glance as they moved quickly through the halls.

"Yeah. I'm ready," Mikey said firmly, a hard glint in his eye.

" 'S different, ya know. Killin' people. Ain't like killin' Walkers."

"I know, dad. I won't let ya down, I promise."

Daryl gave him a tight smile as they entered the courtyard, seeing the other men and women already gathering at the fence. "I know ya won't, kid. C'mon. We're gonna miss the party if we don't haul ass."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that," Mikey said with a cheeky smirk as they started jogging. "Maybe if you get some war wounds, Ma'll kick the girls outta the bed."

"You hush your mouth, boy," Daryl snapped, his face turning red. "What your ma an' me do ain't none a your concern. Rick! What do we got?"

Rick turned, and gave his right hand man a tight smile. "Big group. Glen an' Maggie caught sight of 'em on their run. They were on the road, headin' south, but if they detour off the main road…"

"Gonna drop 'em right on our doorstep," Daryl said grimly, glancing around at the assembled group. "Carol an' Beth got the kids in our block. So your girl's safe," He added with a grin at Carl, who blushed before turning back towards the fence. " 'Bout how far were they, Short Round?"

Glen rolled his eyes at the nickname, as he answered, "Maybe… half hour away? By the time we walked back here… Maybe ten minutes? If they aren't here in twenty, we're probably in the clear."

"We're still gonna wanna up the guard for the next few days. No tellin' where they're gonna camp," Mikey said, notching an arrow.

Daryl felt a surge of pride go through him, as the group mumbled their assent. Mikey was a smart kid; he'd come a long way in the two years he'd been with the group. When he'd first shown up, Daryl had instantly felt a kinship with the boy. While Mikey hadn't said anything, Daryl had seen the cigarette burns on the boys chest and back. Wherever the kid had come from, whatever family he'd had, he'd been in hell long before the Walkers had overrun everything.

"A'ight, let's split up," Rick announced, pulling Daryl out of his thoughts. "Split up into groups of three, spread out, fifty to a hundred feet in between. Daryl, you an' your boy wanna take the gate? I'll send Carl with ya?"

Daryl nodded, before turning to the group. " 'Member, stay outta sight as much as possible. No reason ta announce we're here. Lay in the grass, keep your heads low much as ya can... Those a ya who can should get up in the towers. Carl, Mikey… Let's go."

As the group started to disperse, Daryl turned to the two boys. "A'ight you two… I ain't even gonna try an' tell ya not to spend your time gabbin'. But keep your eyes focused. If I hear ya from the other gate tower, I swear ya gonna feel my size eleven up your ass, ya hear me?" As Mikey grinned, and headed for the stairs, Daryl grabbed Carl's arm. "Hey, I talk ta ya for a minute?" He nodded at Mikey, motioning for him to keep going.

"Uh… yeah, Daryl, what's up?" The eighteen year old asked.

"S'bout Mikey. Ya know…" He took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. "Ya know me an' your dad… The shit with Judy… There's uh… There's some tension there. Makes shit… complicated… when Mikey hangs out over at your dad and Andrea's block. Now… I ain't gonna tell ya not to hang out with him or some stupid shit like that. Jus'… Could ya not do it at your place?"

Carl sighed. "Yeah, uh… I know. I'll… We'll start taking it outside. I um… I know… Guess I just want you to know… I didn't agree with what my dad did. And I understand… you not tellin' Judy 'bout… 'bout my dad, and me, and my mom. I get it."

Daryl nodded, as Carl headed after Mikey, disappearing into the tower. After a few moments, he started into the opposite tower.

* * *

"Shauna?" Carol whispered, trying not to wake the three sleeping children.

"Yeah, mama?" Shauna asked quietly, shifting the sleeping Judith's head to her other arm.

"I'm gonna go check and see what's going on out there. You stay here with the kids. If Beth needs them, the bottles are –"

"In the cabinet under the stairs, third shelf down; formula's on the fourth. I know, mama," The girl said with a smile. "You're only gonna be gone a few minutes; I doubt the world will end… _again_."

Carol smiled back. "Alright. Be –"

"Careful. Yes, mama, I won't go running with any scissors until you get back."

"Cheeky girl. I'll be back."

Carol couldn't remove the smile from her face as she unlocked the cell doors, pocketing the extra set of keys after locking it behind her. Shauna knew where the original was, so there was no worry there.

As she made her way through the common room they shared with Hershel and Beth most days, she couldn't help but think how lucky she was, that she got the second chance she had. And the third, and fourth. While Judy, Shauna, and Micah would never replace Sophia, she had gradually come to realize in her time baby-sitting Judy (long before Rick had given the girl to her and Daryl) that they didn't have to replace her late daughter. That she could love them equally, without betraying Sophia's memory.

In fact, she seen a lot of Sophia in Shauna. Oh, she wasn't stupid enough to think that Shauna was Sophia, or what Sophia would have been, or any of that nonsense. But it was an unavoidable fact that Shauna had certain traits that she shared with Sophia. Their gentleness, their way with children…

But there were also some serious differences. While Shauna was easy-going, and usually mild-mannered, when her siblings were threatened, she could be as violent as her adopted father… Usually with similar results. Once, when one of the new, older teenagers had screamed at Judy for touching her bag, Shauna had flew off the handle. Lit into the older, bigger girl, fists flying, until the girl's brother had gotten involved, which had lead to Micah stepping in

Carol still winced to think of the end result. By the time the adults separated the children, Micah and Shauna had busted a nose, two ribs, three black eyes, and the other boy had walked funny for days from Shauna's foot to his privates.

Although, she supposed the other two teenagers had been lucky, all things considered. Both of her two older children carried buck knives similar to their foster father's, the same man who had taught them how to use said knives.

She had to admit… Daryl was a better father than she'd ever dreamed he would be. Even knowing how good he was with Judy as a baby, it'd still shocked her how quickly he'd taken to his new, and very sudden role of father to two teenagers. He'd taught them how to fight –fists, guns, knives –taught them how hunt, how to track… She'd never forget the proud look on Daryl's face when he and Micah had brought back an eight point buck, that Micah had felled himself

Although, she had to admit, it was funny what her partner thought about gender roles. While he had no problem teaching Shauna almost all the same things he taught Mikey, he'd drawn the line at cleaning and dressing a kill. That, he'd told their son, was a man's job. When Shauna had bucked at being left out of the cleaning sessions, Daryl had explained her role: knowing how to cook whatever her father and brother brought home, be it deer, rabbits, squirrels, or even rats. The patience he'd shown with both children, teaching them what he saw as their roles in the new world, had astounded her. The man usually quick to temper had developed the patience of Job when it came to his children.

"Carol? What're you doing out here?"

Carol started, pulled from her thoughts by Maggie's hand on her shoulder.

"Shit! Holy… Wow," Carol said, sucking in a deep breath.

"Sorry," Maggie said with a chuckle. "Was just coming to check on my kids."

"Oh. Yeah, they're fine. Sleeping with Beth in our block. Although, your sister's going to be very sore in the morning."

Maggie groaned. "I know! I swear, I can't figure out how two, two year olds can take up an entire bed! You know they actually shoved their father out of bed last week?"

Carol laughed. "Yeah, they all do that. Sophia was horrible… Judy was worse. For a while, Daryl wouldn't even bother sleeping in our bed. He'd just bed down on the floor; said he was gonna end up their anyways, might as well start there. So what's going on out there?"

Maggie sighed as she fell in step with Carol, the two of them heading back out the main door. "Nothing so far… Most likely, they didn't detour, kept on following the highway. Probably miles away by now. But Rick and Daryl are gonna keep a heavy guard tonight."

"And of course, they'll both lead that guard," Carol said with a sigh. "Mikey with his father?"

"He's with Carl, in the gate guard tower. Daryl's in the other one. He'll be fine."

Carol scoffed. "Yeah. As long as the three of them don't burn down the towers."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Carl?"

"Yeah?"

"You uh… You ever think your dad regrets giving Judy to my mom and dad?" Micah asked quietly, his fingers idly carving a small chunk of wood.

Carl's eyebrows nearly flew off his head. "Uh… Um… I don't… You're not supposed to know that," He sputtered nervously.

Mikey shrugged. "Overheard your dad and Andrea talkin' 'bout it once. Was cleanin' some squirrels in the courtyard… They didn't know I was there, I guess. Your dad started talkin' 'bout how hard it was, watchin' another guy raise his kid… but on the same hand, how he couldn't stand to look at Judy, 'cause it reminded him of your real mom."

"Shit… Look, Mikey… It's complicated, alright?" Carl said slowly. "But this… You can't let your folks know that you know, okay?"

"Why not?"

Carl sighed in agitation. "Because it's just… It's just complicated!" He snapped.

It was quiet for a few minutes, before Mikey finally spoke again.

"Do  _you_  regret it?"

Luckily, Carl was saved from having to reply, as he seen the flashlight from the other tower flash twice in rapid secession.

"That's your dad. C'mon. Let's go."

* * *

 

Daryl frowned at the pissed look on Carl's face as they met mid-way between the two towers. "Problem, boys?"

"No," Carl said quickly. "What's up? We calling it a night, or we switching positions?"

Daryl glanced at Mikey. "Wanna take a gander, kid?" He asked gruffly.

Mikey thought for a minute, before answering, "Cuttin' the numbers down. If we all stay up the whole night, won't be anybody who isn't exhausted tomorrow. So we cut groups of three down to one person. Maybe even spread ourselves a bit thinner, stretch 'em out hundred an' fifty feet, two hundred feet. That way everybody can get a chance to get some sleep. Right?"

Daryl chuckled, ruffling his son's curly black hair. "S'good, kid. Anyways, you two are on third shift. Carl, your dad wants to talk to you 'fore you disappear with Beth. Who's sleepin' in  _our_  cell block, with  _my_  kids, so keep it in your pants, a'ight? Mikey, when ya head up, let ya ma know I wanna talk to her if she's still awake."

" 'Kay, dad. G'night."

Daryl sighed as both boys disappeared up the hill. Despite what he'd said, he knew he'd probably hold out the night. Mikey'd had a long day; might as well let the kid get some sleep.

He knew he was a little… rough on the boy sometimes. Carol was always the gentle one, the reassuring one. Daryl didn't even try that route. Knew that wasn't his thing. No point in trying to be something he wasn't. But despite his lousy parenting skills, the kids seemed to be turning out alright… for the most part anyways.

He chuckled a bit, as he started the climb back up the tower. He might've had a bit too much influence on 'em though. Carol was really starting to hammer on him about the language thing. Suppose she had a right though; He'd gotten more than a few complaints from the women about Judy dropping the 'f' bomb, among other inventive curses. Some of 'em were actually kind of impressive, he had to admit. Kid was a natural when it came to stringing inventive words together

"Daddy?"

"Shauna? What the hell ya doin' outta bed, girl?" He asked, shock crossing his face as his oldest daughter appeared in the tower.

"Mama fell asleep after Maggie told her everything was okay; Mikey said you wanted to talk to her, so I figured I'd come down and see if you wanted her specifically, or if you needed something. 'Sides, I brought you down somethin' to eat. Figured you might be kinda hungry."

Daryl grinned as he accepted the proffered bowl. "Thanks. Ya know ma's gonna be pissed when she finds out ya were out wanderin' this late though. Whatchya still doin' up, huh?"

The girl shrugged, the dim light from the candle flashing on the beads braided into her hair, as Daryl made a mental note to thank Maggie for picking 'em up on her last run. "Cell's kinda crowded, ya know? Between mom, Judy, Linda, and Amy, there wasn't much room." She hesitated for a minute, before timidly asking, "You mind if I ask ya a question?"

Daryl grunted through a mouthful of a food, swallowing it down mostly unchewed, as he said, "Shoot, girl. Let's hear whatchya got."

"Well… I was just wondering… You and mom… Did you… I mean, I know you guys aren't ‘married’ but… did you know each other before all the walkers and everything?"

"Uh… no,” Daryl said slowly, wondering where this all was going. “Me an' your mom… We met up, 'bout a month after everything went down. She was actually married ta another guy. Real douche bag. But me an' her… We uh… We kinda… sorta, I mean… I guess ya could say we hooked up 'bout a year 'fore we found you."

"Oh."

Daryl sighed, setting the bowl down. "Ya got somethin' ta say, Shauna, jus' spit it out. Dawn’s comin’."

"Well… I mean… there's not a lot of uh… Not a lot of people left, ya know? And I guess… I guess I was just wondering if I'd ever meet somebody. Settle down, like you and ma did."

Daryl's eyes got huge, and he could feel his face turn red as panic coursed through him. "This ain't 'bout… _that_ … is it?" He choked out. " 'Cause if it is, you's gonna have to talk to mama 'bout that."

Shauna rolled her eyes as she sat down Indian-style across from her father. "No, daddy, it's not about sex. I just wanna know if… I mean, I see that you and mama found each other, and Carl and Beth, and Maggie and Glen… I just… I dunno, I guess it's stupid, but… Do you love mom?"

"Yeah," Daryl said suspiciously. "Ya know I do."

"And you guys didn't just… 'hook up' 'cause there wasn't anybody else?"

" 'Course not! What the hell are ya gettin' at, girl?"

"I guess… I'm just wondering if I'll ever fall in love. I mean… There's nobody here my age, other than Mikey. Daniel's four years younger, and Jordan's almost six years older."

"Shit, Shauna, is that all this is? Jesus, girl, ya only thirteen. Ya got a lotta years 'fore ya gotta start worryin' 'bout bein' an old spinster," He said with a forced laugh. "Your mom's seven years older than I am. Once ya get a little older… Age don't matter so much," He said with a shrug. " 'Sides, ya ma an' me? I was thirty-five, she was forty-two. Sometimes, things uh... they jus' take some time."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter's a wee bit short, but I'm posting the next one up as well... Just the way the chapters worked when I originally posted this on FF.net, and I don't wanna change it lol.

"Daryl?"

Daryl carefully turned his head, grimacing a bit as he felt Shauna's small hands tighten their grip on his own hands.

"Up here, Rick," He called back quietly, trying to disentangle himself from his daughter, who had fallen asleep with her head on his lap, her elbow digging painfully into his ribcage. "Give me a minute."

"Daddy?" Shauna said sleepily, a yawn threatening to split her jaw as she looked up at him bleary eyed. "What's goin' on?"

He wrapped his long sleeve shirt around her tighter, gently laying her back down. "Nothin', sweet pea. I'll be back in a sec, a'ight?" When she mumbled something under her breath, and started snoring again, he rolled his eyes, and started down the concrete stairs, rubbing at the stitch in his side.

"What's goin' on?" He asked wearily, rubbing at his eyes.

Rick looked well rested at least, he thought bitterly, glaring at the one-time deputy, standing there clean shaven, in clean clothes.

"You never woke anyone to take your shift. Wanted to make sure everythin' was okay, an' then I ran into Carol on my way out. Shauna up there with you?"

Daryl hated the way his shoulders tensed whenever Rick mentioned any of his children, but over the past few years, he'd given up trying to stop the reaction. Stopped hoping for the easy camaraderie that the small band of survivors had had so long ago. While everyone still looked to him as second-in-command, the rift that had started with Judy, and grown as more people joined their settlement had slowly turned into a chasm as the years went by.

"Yeah. Came up ta bring me somethin' ta eat, an' ended up fallin' asleep. Figured I was wired anyways; no point in wakin' her _an_ ' somebody else up to cover for me," He grumbled.

"So it's been quiet?"

Daryl couldn't help the sideways glance he threw at the other man. "Nah, big group rolled up 'bout an hour 'go, so I made 'em tea an' biscuits, gave 'em some guns, an' sent 'em skippin' along. 'Course it's been quiet."

Rick nodded, before sighing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Daryl... We ever gonna get past this?" He asked quietly.

"Pas' what?" Daryl asked, knowing full-well what the other man was asking, but refusing to play along, to be drawn into the game.

"Past... everything with Judith. Hell, was that even what started all this?"

"Jesus, Rick, it's six o'clock in the damn mornin'. I'm cold, I'm sore, an' I'm tired. I ain't havin' a damn heart-to-heart like a group a women 'bout your hurt feelin's. If you're here ta relieve me, I'll grab Shauna an' head back ta our cell, otherwise... this conversation's over."

* * *

Carol breathed a sigh of relief, as Daryl entered the cells, Shauna still nuzzled against his chest, as her father carried her bridal style. While she knew that Shauna hadn't gone far, and was most likely with her father, that still hadn't stopped her from fretting. She would've gone down to see for herself, but unfortunately...

Daryl's eyes narrowed to slants as he took in the multitude of children sitting at the two tables. "Do I wanna know?"

She laughed as she followed him back into their cells. "I figured I'd give everybody a chance to sleep in. Don't worry, they're all going home."

Daryl snorted as he laid Shauna down in her bed. "Uh huh. So where's ours?"

"Mikey's still sleeping; Judy went with Beth and the twins over to Glen and Maggie's."

Daryl flashed her a grin as they started back towards the common area. "Too bad we got all these kids runnin' 'round," He said slyly, plopping down in an open space a the table.

It was Carol's turn to snort as she dropped a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. "Sure. We both know by the time you get done eating, I'll be lucky if you remember to take your boots off before you fall asleep."

As Carol puttered around, wiping dirty faces, picking up empty dishes, and started pulling last night's laundry down from the clothes line, she couldn't help but smile as the children bombarded Daryl with questions, crawling on his lap, all of them with rapt attention as he entertained them with stories. But then parents arrived to pick up their children. The last one to go was Linda, the seven year old daughter of one of the Woodbury escapees.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Carol," Dana Kaminski said with a smile.

"Any time, Dana. 'Sides, it was mostly Beth."

Dana rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Uh huh. I'll have Harley bring something over for you later. Linda, tell Carol thank you."

The little red-head flashed her toothy smile as she waved. "Thank you, Mrs. Dixon!"

"You're very welcome, Linda," Carol said with a laugh as the two departed, leaving her and Daryl alone for the first time.

"Thank Christ, I thought the skinny brat would never leave," Daryl grumbled under his breath as he dropped his bowl in the wash basin.

Carol smiled, knowing Daryl was complaining just to complain again. "Uh huh. So how'd Mikey do last night?"

There was no mistaking the pride on Daryl's face as he sat back down. "Did great. Kid's got a good head on his shoulders, when he wants ta use it. Probably 'bout time ta start lettin' him go out on his own."

"We'll talk about it later. Why don't you head in, before you fall asleep at the table again?" She said with a chuckle.

Daryl sighed, as he laid his crossbow on the table, and began untying his boots. "I'll be a'ight. 'Sides, that group could still roll through."

"I thought... Maggie said they'd most likely followed the main road; shouldn't they be miles away by now?" She asked with a frown.

"Not if they decided to bed down for the night. Had ta be close to eight, eight thirty when Glen an' Maggie spotted 'em; they couldda just gotten far enough away from town ta feel safe, an' camped for the night."

"If they do, I'm sure Rick can handle it," Carol said firmly, hands on her hips. "You need sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens."

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

Carol took a deep breath, unsure of what to do, as Daryl paced the floor angrily, clinging tightly to Judith, who's face was covered in tears.

"Daryl... Are we... I mean, did... Why don't you give me the baby," She finally settled on.

"I can't believe the balls on him!" Daryl snapped, turning to look at her. "He jus' threw his damn _kid_ away, an' he wants us ta feel sorry for _him_!"

"Daryl... You need to give Judy to me, alright? You're scaring her," Carol said quietly, taking a step towards him, seeing the petrified look on the nine-month old's face.

He took a step back, wrapping his arms around the baby tighter. "I wouldn't ever hurt her! I wouldn't _hurt_ her!"

"I know you wouldn't, Daryl, but you _are_ scaring her. Look at her, Daryl. You either need to calm down, or give her to me. Alright?"

She could see the panic in both sets of eyes, and for a moment, she felt a bit of her own panic, as the sudden realization of what had just happened finally began to sink in. A child. An _infant_. They barely had their lives -let alone their relationship – figured out, and now they were responsible for another life.

"Let's just... take a few deep breathes, alright? We uh... We have to think this through."

 _There_. She could physically see the change come over her partner as he suddenly had _purpose_ again. In the year that they'd lived together, she'd come to realize that without a purpose, without something to do, something to make him feel useful, to occupy his mind, he would get nervous. Anxious.

Maybe even _afraid_.

"A'ight. What do we need? What does _she_ need?" Daryl asked, sitting down, and setting Judy on his knee, where she gurgled and cooed as she grasped at the buttons on his vest.

Carol took a deep breath as she sat down opposite of him. "Um... I think we could um... Probably most of it we can just get from Rick."

"No!" Daryl's response was quick and harsh. "Like _hell_. Ya make me a damn list, an' I'll go find the shit she needs. I ain't takin' _nothin'_ from him. Ya undestand? Not a damn thing!"

"Alright. Alright, um... She uh... She's probably old enough, she doesn't need the formula, if we can get her vitamins... We'll need clothes, and blankets... maybe some toys."

Daryl nodded, pulling the baby into another tight embrace. "I'll go on a run," He said fervently, laying one hand on the back of Judy's blond curls. "I'll get her whatever she needs." He glanced up at Carol, unshed tears filling his eyes. "I'm gonna take care a her, Carol. She needs me, an' I ain't gonna let her down, ya understand? Rick tossed her out, but I ain't gonna let her down."

Carol stood, walking over to him, and pulling Judy out of his grasp, hugging the little girl to her own chest. "I know you won't, Daryl. And I won't either. Get Glen to go with you."

* * *

It was a few hours later when Daryl finally returned, carrying three large backpacks that he unceremoniously dropped on the floor to the common room in front of Carol and Judy.

"A'ight, I got uh... I got clothes... Lots a clothes, wasn't sure what size she was in, so I got lots of 'em... Got a few different types of vitamins... some a those washable diapers... Few blankets... an' a couple teddy bears, an' toys," He said, pulling the items out of the bags as he spoke.

Carol chuckled as she glanced over the assorted items. "Wow. You really went all out, huh?" She asked as she picked up some of the clothes. Her eyebrows raised as she held out a baby blue, frilly dress. "Really?"

Daryl shrugged uncomfortably, as he sat down, a small smile coming to his face as Judy crawled over to him, babbling happily. "I dunno... Jus'... Tryin' ta make sure she had anythin' she might need. How's she doin'?"

"She's fine. Daryl... You have to understand... She's young enough right now that none of this means anything to her. Kids at this age... They adapt to change like it's nothing. If... If we don't tell her... she won't remember Rick as her father."

Daryl grunted as he pulled Judy into his lap. "Good. Carol... I gotta... I gotta ask... I didn't... I uh... I never asked how you uh..."

Carol smiled as she set a hand on his arm. "You don't have to, Daryl," She said with a chuckle. "Judy practically lives here anyways. I've taken care of her more than Rick or Andrea. I love that little girl like she was my own. Which I suppose she is now."

"I don't know... I don't know if I can do this," Daryl said slowly. "I mean... I dunno how ya put up with me, an' I don't know why. Ain't sure I _wanna_ know. But I'm gonna try. I ain't got much ta give... I ain't all that bright, ain't all that smart... Ain't all that nice sometimes," He said with a self-deprecating smile. "But I uh... Crazy as it sounds... I love ya. An' I promise, I'm gonna do right by you an' this little girl."

* * *

It was late; how late, Daryl wasn't sure.

It had been weird enough adjusting to sharing a bed with Carol; taken him almost two months before he'd gotten used to waking up next to another person. Before he'd stopped jumping every time Carol moved.

Or maybe it'd just taken that long for Carol to learn to sleep on the far of their bed. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come to, only to see his hand holding a knife to Carol's throat.

That was the reason he was still awake. The small body laying in between him and Carol tossed, and turned every which way, and when it came down to it, Daryl didn't trust himself to fall asleep. Even putting his knife on the other side of the room, he wasn't willing to risk what he might do.

So he settled for laying on his side, staring at his new family.

Carol looked so peaceful, laying there with one arm around Judy. He knew he didn't deserve either of 'em.

At best, Daryl knew he was an insufferable asshole. At worst...

Well, that didn't really bear thinking about.

He'd always avoided relationships, before the Walker outbreak. Hell, a one-night stand was about eleven hours longer than anything he wanted. He knew who he was, and what he was, and he knew that that didn't exactly lend itself to being a good husband or father.

But, he'd always believed in playing the hand that had been dealt to him. And whether it was God, or Fate, or Karma, or whatever bullshit that was controlling things... He'd been dealt a full house. A winning hand.

Time to step up, be a man, and play the hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty guys, a bit of forewarning: this has always been the chapter I hated most about this story. But it is what it is, and I wanted to keep posting everything, and after three attempts at rewriting, I gave up.

"Keep close," Daryl hissed, as Glen started to fall behind.

"Wait a minute... There's somethin' movin' over there," The Asian said quietly. "Third time the curtains been pulled back."

Daryl let his gaze follow Glen's as he paused for a moment. "Ain't our problem," He said finally. "C'mon, we gotta meet up with Tyrese."

"What if it's other survivors?" Glen asked stubbornly, setting his heels.

"What if it is?" Daryl asked angrily. "They's jus' as scared a us, as we are a them. If they needed help, they wouldda come out. Now c'mon; I ain't hangin' 'round here all day."

"No. I'm gonna go check it out."

The two men locked eyes for a minute, each sizing the other up, before Daryl rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's go. Hopefully they don't shoot us," He added, as he started towards the door of the small house.

" 'Lo? Anybody in here?" He called out as he stepped inside, grimacing as the smell of rotting corpses hit his nose.

"Looks like somebody tried to make a final stand here," Glen said quietly, glancing around at the scattered bodies with crushed heads.

"Yeah, question is, which group was the last one standin': people or geeks," Daryl grunted, moving through what had probably been a living room at one point.

"Hello?" Glen called out, a bit louder than Daryl had. "We're here to help."

Daryl made a shushing motion with his hand, as he pointed at the closed door at the end of the hallway, stepping over corpses as he advanced forward. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard a click behind the door, years of instinct telling him exactly what the noise was.

"Down!" He yelled, dropping to his belly amid the corpses, hoping Glen had done the same, as three shots rang out, the bullets still barely missing his head.

"Hey, we's jus' here ta help!" He yelled.

"Go away!"

He turned, eyes wide as he stared at Glen. The voice that had called out couldn't belong to anyone but a child.

"Look, kid, we ain't here ta hurt ya, a'ight? We jus' wanna help!"

"I don't need your help! Go away!"

"Kid... listen, it looks like a damn bloodbath out here. Ya got anybody hurt in there? We got medical supplies."

There was a few minutes of silence, before he heard the lock turning. A moment later, a tiny sliver of a small face appeared around the door.

"My grammy... she's sick," came the suspicious response. "Can you help her?"

"I ain't promisin' nothin', but... Ya jus'... lemme in, an' I'll take a look at her, a'ight?"

"You leave your weapon outside. And just you; the other man stays outside."

"A course; whatever ya want," Daryl said soothingly, laying his crossbow down, and holding his hands up. "We's jus' here ta help."

The door opened further, and Daryl forced a smile.

"C'mon; she's this way," The little African-American girl said quietly. "But if you try anything... I'll shoot you."

"Fair 'nough. Glen, can ya toss me the bag?"

"No!" The girl practically yelped, cocking the gun again. "No, you walk over, and you get it! Slowly!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Daryl exclaimed, walking over to Glen, making sure to keep his hands up. "Whatever ya say, jus' calm down, a'ight? I can't help ya grandmom if ya shoot me!"

"Daryl, this isn't smart," Glen whispered as he handed Daryl the bag. "She's so jumpy, she's gonna shoot you on accident!"

"This was your brilliant idea, Chinaman," Daryl hissed, yanking the bag away roughly. "Little late ta be changin' ya damn mind."

He turned back towards the young girl, holding the bag out to his left, keeping his right held up. "A'ight, lead the way, girly."

"My grammy isn't sick."

Daryl turned in surprise as the girl shut the door, clicking the lock behind her. "Um... A'ight... so why'd ya let me in?" He asked cautiously, glancing around the room. There was nobody else, and no other doors.

"I wanted to talk to you. You... you kinda sound like my dad," She said, leaning against the door, but still keeping the gun trained on him.

"Ya lyin' 'bout ya dad bein' on his way too?" He grunted, dropping down to rest on his ankles.

The girl hesitated for a minute, biting her lip, before nodding. "Yeah. The... the  _things_... they got grammy first, a couple weeks ago. Then... They got my dad."

"How long ya been on ya own?"

The girl sighed. " 'Bout a week now."

"Whole week, huh? How old're ya?" Daryl asked quietly, mildly impressed with the little wisp of a girl.

"Eleven and a half."

"Well... shit, girly, I'm impressed. Ya pretty damn smart for eleven and a half. But what's the point a all this?"

"I… I wanted to see if… I saw a group of people a few days ago. A guy and two women. Wanted to see if it was you that I saw.”

"Uh huh. What's ya point?"

"I'm not stupid; you said yourself, I'm smart. I know... My dad warned me about... well, what guys do to girls. But... the women you were with... they didn't seem like..." She trailed off, looking unsure for the first time.

It was Daryl's turn to sigh. "Ya dad was right... Lotta people out there... They do a lotta bad things. But our group... We have women, a few kids... Why don't you c'mon back with us? Ya can keep ya gun, leave any time ya want... See if ya like it, how's that sound?"


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl sighed, rolling his head to the side to crack his neck.

"We definitely need to get some better chairs up here," Tyrese grumbled, stretching his arms above his head.

Daryl grunted in agreement; it was too early, and he was too tired to do much more than that. Judging by the sunrise, had to be close to six, meaning their replacement should be there soon.

"Hey, ya think Carol would mind if I had breakfast at your place when we get back?"

Daryl gave him a weary grin. "Michonne still experimentin' at the stove?"

Tyrese rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Yesterday? She tried feedin' me rat steaks that she coated in chili powder."

Daryl shook his head with a chuckle. "That's nasty; everybody knows the only way to cook rat is boilin' it, an' makin' stew outta it."

"Man, you serious? Damn, you white folks be all sorts a cra – hey, what the hell is that?" The large man cut off sharply, grabbing his binoculars.

Daryl was already lining up his scope, letting the sight rest on the lone figure who'd just appeared on the edge of the tree line.

"That isn't a walker," Tyrese said after a few moments. "Movin' too fast. Gotta be human."

"For the time bein' at least," Daryl scoffed, setting the rifle down, and grabbing his bow. "C'mon."

"Aw shit, Daryl," Tyrese swore quietly as they got closer to the fence. "He's just a kid, man."

"Yeah, an' by the looks of it, life ain't exactly been his friend lately," Daryl grunted, moving towards the gate, feeling his own heart sinking.

The boy couldn't have been much older than thirteen or fourteen; small, and stocky, the kid looked like he'd been through hell a few times over. His face was a mass of various colored bruises, dragging his left leg behind him, arm held tight against his chest as he limped towards the fence, moving at a decent clip as walkers appeared at the edge of the woods.

"Hey! Kid!" Daryl called out as he unlocked the gate. "You a'ight? You been bit?"

The kid froze where he stood, a few yards from the gate, his eyes wide. "I... no, I ain't... I need help, mister... please," He panted.

"Daryl! Walkers!" Tyrese called out sharply.

"Shit. C'mon kid; get your skinny ass in here," Daryl barked, glancing to his right, and spotting at least two walkers coming to investigate. "C'mon, I ain't got all day! Move it!"

The boy swayed on his feet. "I... I need help," He repeated.

Daryl took a step closer. "Then move your ass, kid!"

He swore as the kid dropped, finally moving outside the gate. "Tyrese, cover me!" He shouted, darting out to where the kid lay unmoving, and swinging the boy up and over his shoulder. Once back inside the fence, he turned long enough to make sure Tyrese locked the gate, before hauling ass up towards the prison.

* * *

 

Carol sat bolt upright as she heard the large door to the common area swing open, the metal grating roughly against the concrete floor.

"Daryl?" She called out nervously. Most days, he took great care to make sure he didn't wake her or the girls when he came in; the fact that he hadn't taken his time to open the door slowly clued her in to the fact that something was wrong.

"Hershel!" Was the only response she heard.

"Shauna, stay here," Carol said quickly, pushing the still-sleeping Judy closer to her oldest daughter, who was staring around bleary-eyed. "I'll be right back."

She practically bolted out of the cell, nearly colliding with Hershel as she neared the door separating the dormitories from the living area.

"Daryl, what's – oh my God."

He was kneeling next to a small, limp body laying on the floor. Hershel immediately dropped down next to the two, his crutches clattering to the floor, as he spared Carol a quick glance.

"Carol, I'll need my first aid kit, and some water. Oh, and some blankets!" He called after her.

"Mama, what's going on?" Shauna asked with a yawn, standing just inside the cell. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, honey, go back to bed," Carol said quickly, taking a second to give her daughter a tight smile. "We'll be in in a minute."

"He bit, doc?" Daryl asked quietly.

The older man frowned. "No... But he took one hell of a beating, and that's for sure. Nothing that won't heal, but that arm is going to have to be set; from the look of it, I'd say the ankle is just a bad sprain. Ah, thank you, Carol."

Carol gave him a tight smile, as she dropped to her knees next to Daryl. "What the hell happened?" She asked quietly, as Hershel set to wrapping the kid's ankle with gauze.

Daryl didn't look at her as he watched the slow, steady rise and fall of the boy's chest. "Dunno. Came outta the woods, said he wasn't bit... then he jus' fell. So I grabbed him," He muttered. "Aw shit." He leaned in closer, picking the kid's arm up, feeling a surge of anger as he inspected the small burns, some long since healed, some still red and puss-filled.

"Daryl?"

"Cigarettes," He said sharply, his words contrasting with the gentle way he set the boy's arm down. "Kid was used as a damn ashtray."

Hershel sighed. "Daryl... I'm going to need you to hold his chest down while I set that arm. Carol, you get his feet. Carefully, now; watch his ankle."

* * *

 

Daryl cracked his neck again, fighting back a yawn as he stretched out in the metal folding chair, keeping his gaze locked on the small figure laying on the bed. It'd been two hours since he'd brought the kid into the cell; Carol had tried getting some food and water down his throat, but hadn't had any luck.

They had cut his shirt off before laying him down; Daryl hadn't been terribly surprised to see the scars and bruises had continued onto the kid's chest. Had kind of been expecting it, to be honest.

"How's he doing?"

Daryl forced a tired smile to his face as Carol knelt down next to the bed, laying the back of her hand on the boy's forehead.

"Dunno. Ain't moved."

Both adults jumped a bit as a small moan escaped the boy.

"Hey? Kid, can ya hear me?"

One brown eye slowly cracked open, fluttering a bit, before locking onto Daryl.

"Where..."

"Hey, jus' take it easy, kid. What's ya name?"

There was a few minutes hesitation, before the quiet reply of, "Micah. Mikey."

* * *

 

PRESENT TIME

"Dad?"

Daryl groaned, rolling over onto his stomach, and pulling the pillow over his head. "What?"

"It's four o'clock. Ma told me to wake you up," Mikey said apologetically. "She's just startin' dinner. I got a couple rabbits this mornin'; she's gonna make a stew."

"A'ight," Daryl grumbled, pulling the pillow off his head. "Judy back from Glen a'n Maggie's yet?"

"Uh huh. Her an' Shauna are helpin' ma. Long night?"

Daryl grunted as he sat up, not liking his son's tone as he started putting his boots on. "Yeah, it was. You got a problem?"

Mikey sighed, plopping down on a chair. "Yeah, dad, I do. Everybody else got woken up for their shift. Everybody... but  _me_. Now the other guys... They're all sayin' that... That I ain't old enough. That y'all don't trust me. And that's why ya didn't wake me up."

"Oh c'mon, Mikey. Ya know that ain't true," Daryl said tiredly. "Look, your sister came out, brought me some food... she fell asleep, an' I didn't see the point of wakin' both of ya. It ain't a big deal. It ain't 'cause I didn't trust ya."

" _I_ know that, dad. But the other guys..." Mikey let out a deep breath, scratching the back of his head. "I jus'... I dunno."

"Mikey... Come here, kid," Daryl said softly, patting the bed. When Mikey slowly obeyed, Daryl sighed. "Look... There's two ways ya can handle this, a'ight? Ya can ignore it. Ya know I trust ya. So what they think a ya, don't mean shit... Ya can jus' let it slide off your back."

Mikey snorted. "Yeah. Great advice, dad. Pretend it doesn't happen, an' be a wuss. What's the second option?"

Daryl looked him firmly in the eye. "Ya stomp their asses. Ya beat 'em, an' ya beat 'em good. Don't stop 'til they stop movin'. I taught ya how ta win a fight. You play dirty, an' ya play ta win."

"Yeah, but there's two a them, Dad. An'... they're a lot bigger than me."

Daryl frowned. "Mikey, there's only one boy older than ya. An' Jordan ain't all that big; hell, ya damn sister kicked his ass. Jus' who the hell is givin' ya problems?" When Mikey stayed silent, absently rubbing the back of his left hand – something he did whenever he was nervous – Daryl reached over, and gave him a light swat on the back of the head. "Hey! I asked ya a damn question. Who the hell is botherin' ya, Micah?"

"It's Tommy and Alex." Both father and son looked up as Shauna entered the cell. "They've been teasing him for a few weeks now. Ever since Rick sent him with Carl and Glen on that run. They were pushing him around this morning when he came back with dinner," She said quietly, folding her arms over her chest.

"Shauna!" Mikey said angrily. "What the hell?! You  _said_  you wouldn't say nothin'!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Daryl snapped, standing up. " _Tommy_ , an'  _Alex_? Compton?"

"Dad... It's not... Look, it's not a big deal, okay?" Micah mumbled, glaring at Shauna. "I... Jus' forget it, a'ight? Dad? Dad!"

Daryl ignored his children, storming through the common area.

"Daryl? What's going on?" Carol asked curiously, looking up from the small pot she had cooking over the fire.

"What's goin' on is some ass is gettin' kicked," Daryl snarled. "Keep the kids here."

"Dad, don't!" Mikey pleaded.

"Nah, that shit ain't gonna fly. S'bad enough Tommy, but Alex? Nuh huh. No way."

"Shauna, Micah, what the hell is going on?" Carol demanded, hands on her hips as she turned towards her two oldest children. "Where's your father going?"

"Tommy an' Alex Compton were hasslin' Mikey this morning," Shauna said with a shrug, moving towards the table.

"Jesus, Shauna!" Mikey swore. "Do you  _ever_  keep your damn mouth shut?!"

Judy's eyes went huge, and she stood up on her chair. "Mama's gonna wash your mouth with soap!" She said in a sing-song tone.

"Judy, hush," Carol said absently, looking at her son. "Micah, why didn't you say anything?"

Micah's jaw moved for a few seconds, nothing coming out, before asking, "Ma, rather than worry about me, why don't you worry about dad?!"

Carol sighed. "Mikey... I'd be more worried about Tommy and Alex than I would your father."


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey! Compton!" Daryl snapped, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he stormed into Cell Block F, which thirty-year old Alex and his twenty-one year old brother Tommy shared with Tyrese, Michonne, and another older couple. "Get ya asses out here!"

"Daryl? What the hell is goin' on?" Tyrese demanded, stepping out of a cell.

"Stay outta this, Tyrese," Daryl growled, moving up the stairs. "Compton!"

He found the two brothers playing cards in a cell. "What the hell did ya do ta my boy?"

"Jesus, Dixon," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "The hell is your problem?"

"My...  _problem_? Ya go messin' with my kid, an' ya gonna ask me what my _problem_ is?"

"You better back up, man," Tommy spat, standing up, and getting in his face.

Big mistake. Daryl lashed out, landing a vicious blow to the younger brother's gut. When Tommy doubled over, Daryl used one hand to slam his head into the bars, turning quick enough to dodge the hay-maker Alex threw at him, and throw one of his own that connected with the older brother's head.

And just like that, it was over. Neither of the brothers got up again, and Daryl scoffed.

"Ya ever go near any a my kids again, shit-face? I'll turn ya in ta Geek bait."

* * *

 

"So...?"

Daryl grunted as he pulled his boots off, glaring at Carol, who was already in her pajamas, lying in bed. The kids were all in bed already, Judy having decided to sleep in with Shauna for the night.

"So, I kicked their asses, tol' 'em next time, I'd feed 'em ta the Walkers," He muttered, sliding onto the bed next to her, pulling his shirt over his head, and throwing it across the room.

She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his back. "Those brothers remind you of anybody?"

Daryl sighed, relaxing into Carol's arms. "Yeah," He admitted. "Only difference is, me an' Merle wouldn't a pushed no damn kids around. Ah, that feels good," He said contentedly, as Carol began rubbing his shoulders. "So uh... Shauna... when she came down to the towers... Started askin' me 'bout... whether she'd ever... fall in love, or some stupid crap like that."

"Do I even want to know what you told her?"

"Tol' her she's too young ta start thinkin' 'bout stuff like that. 'Sides, ain't like there's anybody here for her ta be with." He couldn't help the groan as Carol's hand hit a particularly sore spot.

Carol smiled softly as she eased up, but kept rubbing at the knotted muscle. It'd taken almost four months of living together before he'd been comfortable enough to let her do this; hell, it'd been two months before he'd even take his clothes off before getting into bed. Even during their fumbling, awkward sex, he'd always kept his shirt on. Blew the candles out before taking off his jeans. She could only imagine how uncomfortable it had made him to listen to his daughter talk about love.

"She's just going through a phase, Daryl. Hormones, and all that."

She could feel him tense under her hands again, and she resisted the urge to chuckle, but she  _couldn't_  resist adding, "You know, pretty soon you'll need to give Micah 'the talk'."

The groan had nothing to do with her, as Daryl turned, pulling away from her. "Why me?" He muttered. "You can do it. Hell, ya probably be better at it than I would."

"Because you're his father," She said softly, but firmly. "He needs to hear it from another male."

He scoffed as they both laid down on their side, her back pressed against his front, as he draped an arm around her middle. "Yeah, 'cause I'm a great example."

She sighed as she nestled further against his chest. "Well... You don't hear me complaining, do you?" She felt him stiffen, and knew she was pushing her luck. "Relax," She said with a chuckle. "I'm not asking for anything tonight. We're both tired. I'm just saying that you don't give yourself enough credit. Besides... There's more to 'the talk' than sex."

"See? This is why it should be you," He mumbled, burying his face against her shoulder. "I ain't got no idea 'bout this stuff. Ain't like I ever talked 'bout...  _that_... with my ol' man. Hell, I'll probably screw the kid up worse."

She didn't say anything else, letting herself enjoy the closeness of the moment. It was rare that they didn't have Judy, or even Shauna on occasion sleeping in with them, which made even cuddling a rare occurrence. Not to mention that Daryl himself had to be in a certain mood to allow it. Most nights, even when they had the bed to themselves, he would sleep on his side, facing the door, away from her.

One of the myriad of things she'd learned to live with – and even love, in her own way – about life with Daryl Dixon.

Oh, she knew most of the women – and even a few of the men – living in their small community wondered about their relationship. How it could work between the quiet, mousey woman, and the hot-headed, rough redneck.

But she didn't really think about it. It worked, and that was all that mattered. She knew Daryl loved her, even if he didn't show it in a way that most people considered loving. He never kissed her, or held her hand while others were around; never whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

But to be honest, she wasn't sure she would know how to handle those displays if he was inclined towards them. She had never been big on PDA, even before her first disastrous marriage to Ed. Never been a big huggy feely person.

It was the small things that Daryl did that let her know how much he loved her. The small smile he'd give her when he brought back whatever game he'd found that day. The gentleness, and care he took as he showed her how to protect herself.

The way his eyes would follow her, always keeping track of her movements, and her safety.

The unsureness, the hesitance, on the rare occasions they were physical or intimate with each other.

The smile he didn't seem to be aware of as he watched her and his children hustle about the cell and common area at night.

She knew that in a few hours, he'd be up and about, checking on all the children, walking the cells, making sure nothing slipped in unseen. He never slept more than two or three hours at a time, before he'd have to double check the things that he'd already double checked before bedding down for the night. Then he'd come back to bed – back to her – and repeat the process again later. Sometimes she wondered at how well he seemed to function on so little sleep. It was rare for him to sleep more than five or six hours, even with waking up in between.

* * *

 

Daryl was just starting to fall asleep, when he heard the pitter-patter of little feet.

"Judy?" He called out quietly. A moment later, he seen the small mop of dirty-blonde hair appear in the door frame.

"I had a bad dream," Judy sniffled, standing there, clutching the teddy bear Daryl had brought back on his first run for her three years ago.

Daryl sighed. "Come here, kiddo."

As soon as he'd spoken, the toddler had practically bolted into his arms. When he laid her down in between himself and her mother, Judy snuggled happily beneath the sheets, taking the spot Carol had had a few moments ago, pressing her back against his front. He couldn't help but chuckle as she reached over, and pulled his arm across her.

"G'night, daddy."

"G'night, Ass-Kicker," He whispered back, before drifting back to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl scrubbed one hand over his face, rubbing the last remnants of sleep away as he silently stalked out of their cell, closing the iron door noiselessly with practiced ease, before making his way down the hall to Shauna’s cell.

Glancing in at the thirteen year old, sprawled out across the bed, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling settling into his chest. His little girl was turning into a woman quicker than he knew how to handle. And a damn fine woman she’d be, as much as it made his stomach churn to think about it. His baby girl was growing up before his eyes, and despite his earlier words to her, he knew in a few years, she’d start turning heads. Every boy in the prison would start eyeballin’ her, and eventually, she’d start eyeballin’ ‘em back.

And one day, she’d find that ‘special’ guy, the one who would become her world, and he’d have to put his desire to stomp that young man into the ground aside. Have to accept that she was a grown-up; free to make her own choices. Have to realize that –while no man would ever be good enough for his little girl –he’d have to settle for the man that Shauna chose.

But not tonight, he thought with a smile, as she shifted on the bed, clutching her stuffed bear a bit tighter, her pink bunny PJ’s and colored beads braided in her hair reassuring him that he had a little bit longer, at least. A little bit longer of her being daddy’s girl, before he had to start worrying.

Turning away silently, he started up the stairs, moving past Hershel’s cell, and taking a second to peer into Beth’s. As usual, Carl was wrapped up tight with the blonde girl, and Daryl had to stifle a chuckle at the balls on the kid; sneaking in to spend the night with her daddy sleeping only ten feet away.

Two cells down was Micah’s cell. He stopped just outside the door, knowing that if he made any noise, the boy would instantly wake, most likely trying to bash Daryl’s skull in with the metal pipe the kid kept underneath his pillow, or the ten inch buck knife he kept underneath his pillow.

Watching the kid sleep was always like a knife in Daryl’s gut. While he was awake, the kid tried hard as hell to show everyone how tough he was; how mean he was. Like a world-weary alley cat, the boy stalked around, eyes always trying to cover any possible threat to himself, his mother, or his little sisters. The tough-guy-swagger the almost-fifteen year old kept up as he ran with the older men, forcing himself to keep up, forcing himself to be just as good, reminded Daryl of himself at that age.

He knew exactly what had caused him to act that way; the thought of his boy going through the shit he’d been through never failed to send a red-hot flash of murderous rage tearing through him.

But at night… Asleep… he looked like the lost, broken boy he really was. Curled up on his side, one hand a tight fist, the other tucked up under the pillow where Daryl knew it clenched that metal pipe with a death grip. Sleeping only in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, the multitude of white scars covering his chest and arms contrasted sharply against the boy’s tanned skin, creating a road map of pain that Daryl understood only too well.

He resisted the urge to grunt, or sigh, or make any sort of noise as he moved away from the cell, back down the perch, and into the room he shared with Carol and Judith. Even though the four year old technically had her own cell, Daryl could only think of two times she’d fallen asleep in there; she’d never spent the entire night, usually crawling into bed with him and Carol after an hour or two.

As he crawled back into bed, Judy turned towards him, pressing her small body tightly against his, and curling her tiny fingers into his hair. He groaned inwardly as he inhaled a curly blonde lock of hair, carefully maneuvering his hand to try and push her unruly curls out of his face, knowing how pointless it was. Sometimes, it seemed like the damn brat did it on purpose, he thought with a smile, hugging her close to him.

Judy –or Ass Kicker, as he still called her when Carol couldn’t overhear –was the smallest bundle of spitfire, curiosity, chaos, and destruction he’d ever seen. If there was trouble to be had, the four year old would search it out, whether from the stray cat she’d found and adopted (that had clawed her arms and face, before Daryl had put his foot down, and made the dam thing stay outside), or trying to teach her how to swim.

He did chuckle a bit at that particular memory. He'd taken Judy down to the small pond, to give Carol a much needed break for a while. Figuring it couldn't hurt to start teaching his youngest how to fish. He'd barely had the hook attached to the line, when he heard a large splash. He'd just about had a damn heart attack, right then and there, frozen to the spot at the sight of his baby girl, kicking and paddling away like some sort of fish, right in the middle of the pond at three years old.

No fear at all. Judy, more than the other two put together, was going to give him a damn heart attack. More than one person had mentioned that it was a good thing her mother already had gray hair; that he'd better start watching his own, before he ended up with a full head of gray.

But one of his favorite things to hear was how much Judy looked like him and Carol. The only people who knew that Judy wasn't actually theirs was the original members of the group: Maggie, Glen, Hershel, Beth, Carl, Rick, and Andrea. So he always had to bit back a laugh when people would mention how much Judy looked like him. How much of her daddy's personality she had.


End file.
